


Love Not Given Lightly

by Neliore



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ASoIaF Kink Meme, Abuse, Anal Sex, Angst, BDSM, Come Swallowing, Cutting, Face Slapping, Finger Sucking, Knifeplay, M/M, Mutilation, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 01:02:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1838692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neliore/pseuds/Neliore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon and Theon find that inflicting pain during sex makes it all the better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shiny Leather In The Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thehairshirt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thehairshirt/gifts).



> Written for the following prompt on the ASOIAF kink meme:
> 
> Jon and Theon find that inflicting pain during sex makes it all the better. Knifeplay, bloodplay. 
> 
> (This anon would like it if it was a mutual give and take, but if you'd like to make it a bit more of a dom/sub thing I'd be up for that too)
> 
> I have to add that I usually do mostly light BDSM so I was not sure if this was hardcore enough. I hope it's satisfactory :)
> 
> Title of the fic and all the chapters' titles are from the lyrics to the song Venus In Furs by Velvet Underground

It was so fast Theon never saw it coming. There was just a loud sharp _swoosh_ and a _clank_ and he found himself sprawled on the ground, his rib aching and his face in the dirt. A leather boot nudged at his side gently and he turned around to face a smug bastard grinning over the fact that the point of his sword was at the hollow of Theon's neck.

Theon swallowed and felt the familiar warmth in his belly. He said, seemingly unaffected: ''Well fought.''

But Jon's sword was still firmly pressed against his skin. Had it not been a practice sword, Theon would have been cut.

Robb started approaching them and Theon hoped Snow would remove that sword and let him get up before Robb could see the growing bulge in Theon's breeches. He was so hard. He wondered what the battle lust must be like since just this sword practice was enough to sometimes make him spend without even touching himself. Especially when he sparred with Snow. That seemed to resemble too closely that other sparring between them that took place in the night, locked inside the safety of one of their bedchambers, hidden away from the prying eyes and condescending glances.

Bloody bastard waited, grinning at Theon's obvious arousal, and just before Robb came to join them, he removed the sword and extended his arm to Theon, pulling him up.

He whispered: ''You know what this means, Greyjoy.''

Theon whispered back: ''My chamber, your rules.''

And Snow smiled, licked his pouty lips and nodded. ''Aye.''

Later that night, Winterfell silent and asleep, Theon sat awake in his chamber waiting for Snow. He lit up when he saw the door open and a familiar slender shape enter quietly, bolting the heavy wooden door behind him.

Theon greeted him with a kiss. He ran his fingers through Jon's hair and nibbled on his chin and lips as Jon's hands started fondling his back. He smiled at Theon and pushed him slowly backwards, leading him to the bed.

As Theon slumped to the mattress, Jon reached in the little cabinet nearby taking the rope and other things they sometimes used. Theon stretched, his arms high above his head, waiting. Snow straddled his chest and leaned over tying his wrists up to the bedpost. Once that was done, Theon was rewarded with wet soft kisses, Jon's tongue rubbed every corner of his mouth and then he sucked Theon's lips, still holding the lower one between his teeth as he was retreating. Theon's head followed, or he was pulled by his lip, more likely. And when he moaned, it was not for the pain of the bite, but for the loss of attention that he complained.

Jon shut him up with his fingers, pushing them in Theon's mouth for him to suck. And Theon did. He licked and slurped, so dedicated, so needy. Jon's other hand went behind, to Theon's crotch. Bastard sniggered to feel him so hard already.

He quickly pulled his fingers out of Theon's mouth and this time Theon's complaint was silenced by a sharp slap on the cheek that left Theon gasping. But right afterwards, he chuckled, bucking his hips up.

Jon raised his eyebrow. ''More?''

Theon nodded, smiling wantonly. ''More.''

Jon looked up to the ceiling with mock annoyance and first smacked and then backhanded him, quite hard. Theon whimpered a _yes_ and then Snow's one hand grabbed his jaw firmly while the other one yanked him by the hair. Theon yelped and Jon growled, not an inch from his face: ''I slap you when _I_ want. So shut the fuck up.''

Then he let go and Theon could feel the salty taste of blood in the corner of his mouth. His tongue dabbed at it greedily.

Jon chuckled. ''First blood.''

And then he sucked on Theon's split lip, moaning hungrily.

Theon felt as if he was melting, the whole of him, except one part, to be precise. His cock was rock-hard and felt uncomfortable in his breeches. But he knew he'd be let out soon. And sure enough, the pretty bastard took his knife, smiling teasingly. He gently pressed the tip of it to Theon's clean shaven cheek. The skin was red from the blows, but the cold blade felt nice, and the way Jon pressed the side of it against that bruised soft flesh was comforting and arousing.

Jon guided the knife gently down, tracing the outlines of Theon's lips. Theon was just breathing hard, not daring to move. Then it went slowly down his neck and he didn't even dare breathe anymore. Jon shifted a bit lower, straddling Theon's hips now, squirming over his hardness, his dark grey eyes seeming happy for once. Then his knife cut swiftly through the laces of Theon's shirt. Laces cut, Jon placed the knife between his teeth, grabbed the shirt collar with his hands and pulled, loud ripping sound of fabric being torn filled the chamber and made Theon moan and again lift his hips shamelessly. ''Yes. Snow, yes. Oh, gods. More.''

Jon chuckled, knife still between his teeth, he sure was glad to hear that. But he quickly became serious again, rolled his hips slightly, which again caused Theon to moan, and this time his hands found Theon's erect nipples. He squeezed them so hard Theon cried out loudly. He spat the knife to the side and fell on one mistreated nipple, sucking hard. He bit into it, while rubbing the other one with his hand. Theon just whimpered.

Jon raised his eyes from his task and again smiled to see him so wanting. He kissed his lips and took the knife back in his hand. He drove the blade slowly all over Theon's chest, circling around his nipples and then going down to the abdomen. Theon's muscles strained. Jon jumped back a bit, placing himself between Theon's legs in one swift motion, and his knife rested just beneath Theon's hipbone. There he pressed, slowly, but firm. Theon hissed as the skin was breached. Jon removed the knife and licked the cut with his tongue. Then, with his tongue still stuck out he searched for Theon's mouth. Theon received him readily, tasting not only his own blood but Snow's wild need too.

Jon whispered: ''More?''

And Theon moaned: ''More.''

So Jon gave him more, he licked the blood from Theon's body and then Theon sucked it from his tongue. It was not just that one cut, more were made, both sides of his ribcage, Theon's lower stomach and Theon moaned for _more_. But then Jon stopped, he was visibly hard, probably in haste now to fuck as soon as possible, though he never showed it, so composed he always was.

He took the knife and placed the handle to Theon's lips.

''Bite down hard,'' he commanded. Theon obeyed, the handle filling his mouth as the blade stuck out waiting. Jon leaned over him barely touching the blade with his chest. He positioned himself and then moved. The knife cut through his shirt, and Theon delighted in the site of Snow's beautiful body being shown now, unwrapped slowly as the knife cut through the fabric. When they got to the belly, Theon whimpered and Jon shuddered slightly and then gasped as the thin red line appeared just beneath his bellybutton. He shook the remnants of the shirt off of him and then took the knife out of Theon's mouth, pressing his body against his face, rubbing his stomach and crotch around Theon's mouth. Theon kissed the cut and licked it, sucking softly. 

Then Jon ordered: ''Undo my breeches.''

Though it wasn't easy to unlace them just with his teeth, both of them had plenty of practice as they've been playing these games for over a year now - the loser at sword practice or archery during the day would be the one to submit during the night, so Theon succeeded at undoing Jon's breeches rather quickly. He was rewarded with Jon's throbbing cock being pushed down his throat. Right away Jon started thrusting, deep and hard, filling Theon's mouth with his thickness. He'd pull out and then bury himself in, all the way, till Theon's nose rubbed the skin of his crotch. Then he'd stay like that for a while, until Theon would start choking, then he'd pull out, giving him the chance to catch his breath and then he'd slam down again.

He mouth-fucked him ruthlessly, trying to fit ever more of himself in. Theon gagged every time Jon's cock would hit the back of his throat, but he was so happy to suck him. Jon's hands gripped the headboard and his hips started slamming wilder and rougher, fucking Theon's mouth for real now and when he moaned in his release Theon contentedly swallowed everything to the last precious drop.

Jon dropped down on top of him, sucked and kissed the mouth he fucked moments ago. Theon's chin was wet with spittle and cum and now Jon got messy too. They giggled slightly, and after allowing Jon few moments to recover, Theon said: ''Now get back to your task, Snow.''

Jon smiled sheepishly. ''Sorry, I couldn't hold it anymore.''

He got back to Theon's tied body and in a few quick motions cut Theon's swollen cock free, out of the confinement of the breeches. Then he got down on him and sucked as if he was starved. It didn't last long, Theon was so aroused, he came in violent gushes, all over Snow's pretty face. Then he hoped Jon would use that as an excuse to punish him.

Jon offered his face to Theon's tongue, to be licked clean. ''I don't remember allowing this,'' he said.

Theon knew he'd be hard again in mere moments. Jon tugged roughly at Theon's breeches, pulling them down together with his boots. He reached for his thin leather belt and looped the buckled end twice around his hand, making it slightly shorter. He commanded in his feral low voice: ''Feet flat on the mattress, knees high up, and spread as wide as you can.''

Theon pulled his legs up, placing his feet flat on the mattress just below his buttocks. He spread his legs real wide, exposing not only the insides of his thighs, but his cock and balls too. Jon was licking his lips in such a predatory manner that Theon's mind spun with arousal and anticipation.

Jon, naked from his waist up, was still wearing his boots and soft leather breeches, though they were unlaced and his cock was jutting out, half-hard now, no doubt due to the sight of bound Theon with arms tied and legs spread in this rude half-sitting, half-lying position.

He walked slowly around the bed, looking for the best spot. When he found it he leaned his head to the side slightly and squinted, aiming. Then he raised his arm, and Theon thought how he never saw a sight more beautiful.

The loud _CRACK!_ exploded as the belt hit the inside of his thigh viciously, stinging and burning. Theon hissed and then whimpered, but he never moved. Jon aimed again and hit him across the other thigh, soft sensitive flesh now adorned with a mean red welt and Theon gasped in pain.

Immediately another _SWISH!_ and then _CRACK!_ followed, then another, and yet another, and then some more, each of them burning and biting the skin on the inside of Theon's thighs, adding more angry welts, eliciting more moans and whimpers. Snow hit him hard, the only mercy allowed was that Theon's cock and balls were spared. The cock showed appreciation by jumping and twitching, hard as steel, with every blow that came down.

Theon couldn't remember when he first discovered how pain made him harder than any gentleness ever could. But he remembered when he discovered that Jon was just the same. It was over a year ago. They fought with wooden swords back then, have gotten carried away a bit and started hitting each other too viciously to be deemed appropriate. He remembers he hated Jon back then, and the feeling was mutual. But as Jon darted towards him and threw him to the ground pinning him down with his own body, Theon's initial embarrassment over the possibility that Jon might discover how hard he was, was immediately replaced by the surprise that Jon himself was harder yet. Snow blushed and Theon grinned shaking him off. But not even an hour later the pouty bastard was waiting for Theon in the dark of the Winterfell armoury. They were only too happy to jerk each other off, then one thing lead to another, and soon there wasn't a thing left undone between them, and that is why now, a year later, Theon was tied up in his bed, his thighs brutally whipped and his cock achingly hard as he was submitting to Jon's harsh but loving attention. Oh, no, they didn't hate each other anymore.

Jon was bringing the belt down hard, he has started sweating from the effort. Theon's thighs became so sore, the flesh burned under these angry licks that kept falling down hard and fast, cutting and biting. But Theon only ever moaned for more. He saw Jon stroking himself with his other hand, biting on his lip, and if Theon was distressed this would soon stop, the thought of Snow's hard cock up his ass comforted him.

Jon stopped suddenly, and Theon wailed: ''More!''

But Jon shook his head, throwing the belt to the floor. ''No more.''

Then he quickly got to the bed, between Theon's legs, lifting them so they rested on his shoulders. His cock out and ready, but he stopped to lick and kiss the bruised flesh of Theon's thighs. Then he spat in his palm and smeared the spittle over the head of his cock. He pressed against Theon's entrance and pushed slowly. Theon now felt another kind of burn as he was being stretched around Jon's hardness. Jon was slow, but he didn't stop until fully inside. Then he rolled his hips slightly and started fucking, first slow, with long sensual thrusts, and when he felt Theon's arousal increasing he sped up, slamming his hips down, making Theon whimper his usual _yeses_ and _mores_.

Jon continued fucking him relentlessly and Theon laughed wildly when he saw him lift the knife and cut the ropes his wrists were bound with. Theon immediately took his hands to Snow's ass, grabbing and groping, squeezing the toned flesh as it was clenching to Jon's shoving his cock up Theon's ass deep and hard. Jon grinned and kissed him. But as Theon's hand went to grab his own hard cock, Jon broke the kiss and pushed the hand away. His tone was stern. ''No.''

Theon wailed softly, but then his hand started tapping around the mattress, searching. He grabbed the knife and brought it to Jon's face, blade turned to the bastard.

Theon's tone was exasperated. ''Please.''

Jon smiled, and then stopped his thrusting and stuck his tongue out. He licked the blade first, hilt to tip, and then his tongue pressed hard against it and little red drops smeared the edge. Theon gasped and moaned and then he threw away the knife as Jon pushed his tongue inside his mouth where Theon sucked and licked, like a hungry beast. Then Jon resumed his thrusting, fucking furiously. Theon was wild in his sucking, Jon's blood tasted sweet and precious in his mouth and he was not sure if it was that taste or Jon's cock hitting _that_ spot that pushed him over the edge. The world disappeared for a few moments. There was only bliss.

Jon came too, and then they kissed each other to sleep.


	2. The Belt That Does Await You

It was so fast Theon never saw it coming. There was just a loud sharp _swoosh_ and a _clank_ and he found himself sprawled on the ground, his rib aching and his face in the dirt. A leather boot kicked at his side viciously and he turned around to face a smug bastard grinning over the fact that the point of his sword was at the hollow of Theon's neck.

Theon swallowed and felt the familiar knot in his belly. He never said anything as he was being dragged back.

This time he was not kissed gently, nor were there soft words. He was tied up, though. But not to his bedpost, his lean muscled body relaxed on the soft mattress, waiting for the sweet games he played with the bastard that he loved so.

No. He is now tied to the hard cold wooden cross. His abused wretched body is tense. For _this_ bastard likes games too, but of different kind.

Before he only ever pleaded for more. Now his pleads are different too.

It is now a different whip that beats him, and these hands don't care if they hit too soft a spot too many times, or if he's too bruised to be able to take more.

It is now a different knife that cuts him. And these cuts don't leave sweet marks on his skin, in fact these cuts don't even leave him his skin, or his fingers.

But the knife and the cutting is not the worst. It hurts, yes, but it is not what is killing him. The thing that is killing Theon is that every time he opens his eyes, the bastard he sees in front of him is the wrong kind of Snow.


	3. And Cure His Heart

It was so fast Theon never saw it coming. There was just a loud sharp _swoosh_ and a _clank_ and he found himself sprawled on the ground, his rib aching and his face in the dirt. A leather boot nudged at his side and he turned around to face an unknown man grinning over the fact that the point of his sword was at the hollow of Theon's neck.

Theon swallowed but felt nothing. The stranger spat at him. ''Turncloak.''

Then he continued mumbling to himself, but loud enough for Theon to hear: ''I don't know why Snow ordered him alive. He should have cut his vile head off the moment Stannis brought him.''

Theon didn't move, he didn't really have any strength to move. He remembered Stannis, but he had no idea where he was.

Then another voice said: ''Leave him be. He left his past behind when he came to the Wall. Like the rest of us.''

The first voice apologized: ''Yes, Lord Commander'' and was gone.

Dark grey eyes were unreadable, but the hand was offered, and when Theon took it, he pulled him up, catching his frail body in his arms. Theon only blinked. He dared not look. He dared not speak. He hardly dared breathe. But he felt his blood pumping, and he felt his heart beating, his body becoming warm again, as he was being led to the Lord Commander's chamber. Theon then started weeping and hasn't stopped until he told him _everything._

He rested. He slept. Maester took care of his wounds. He was fed. He was washed. After several weeks he was feeling human again. All that, the food, the rest, the baths, the soothing ointments and salves, all of that was good. But it was not what brought him back to life. No. What brought Theon back to life was that the bastard he now belonged to was his very own Snow.

 


End file.
